


The Cynic & The Believer

by Rennajade



Category: Incredibles (Pixar Movies)
Genre: Conversion therapy mention, F/F, Gen, Homophobia, I'll probably tack on more tags as necessary, Multi, Therapy, mental illness reference, possibly PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 03:23:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15720978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rennajade/pseuds/Rennajade
Summary: As a prerequisite of being considered for early release on good behavior, Evelyn has to go through therapy. She discovers some things about herself that she may not want to acknowledge.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be slow-burn. Enjoy the Hevelyn He'll with me.  
> It's also almost a definite thing that Evelyn's gonna have a lot of mental health problems.

            “So… Miss Deavor… tell me about your history.”

            She could’ve stayed silent. Could’ve just let the psychiatrist believe whatever the hell he wanted. Let him write down anything – unresponsive, refusal to engage, whatever it was that shrinks did. Let him just scribble away in that notebook of his.

            Instead, she closed her eyes, drew her lips into a thin line, and sighed. _Make it believable._ Her ticket out –early— was to _really_ sell it. It would be harder to sell a good story to this guy than it had been to… _her._

            “Guess it started with my parents,” she shrugged. She wouldn’t give too much away. Make it too easy, and they’d know she was faking it. Make it too hard, and she wouldn’t get any closer to _out_. The Goldilocks recipe, if you will.

            “Oh? Why’s that?” When she remained silent, he pushed, just a little bit. “Was it after they passed away?”

            A short bark of laughter escaped, and at the psych’s expression of shock, Evelyn stifled it. She’d have to remember not to do that. “Oh, God, no. Yes, of course I grieved, but no.” She sat up and faced the man, arching a brow. “I was always the _second best_.”

            “Winston being best?” he inquired.

            “Prying,” she snapped back.

            From the corner of her eye, she watched his hands fly up in the universal “no threat” gesture. “My apologies.”

            A grunt of acknowledgement. Deafening quiet. Evelyn let him squirm. She knew he was uncomfortable. Knew he didn’t like her. He didn’t want to be here. But he also appeared fascinated.

            _This_ was why she had such a hard time with social situations. She couldn’t read people. She hadn’t been able to when she was little, and she hadn’t gotten any better with time. “Winston was the golden child.”

            “Ah.”

            “Don’t _Ah_ me,” Evelyn scoffed. “Boys are prized. Win is handsome, smart and reasonably charming, if he isn’t kissing Super ass. My parents believed he would be their shining star.” With a dark chuckle, she shook her head. “They weren’t exactly wrong.”

            In high school, she had taken theatre. She enjoyed it, surprisingly. It was easier to feel comfortable in skin that wasn’t your own. She found she could take on roles as easily as swapping clothes. She had done it again and again since she was fifteen, and now she donned a new one. The narrative of _poor neglected Evelyn_. “I envied him. All their attention bestowed on him, while _I_ slaved away in my room, writing lines of code, inventing brand-new ideas…” Her next sigh was wistful. “I wanted approval. I still hadn’t earned it when…”

            “The incident.”

            “Hm. Incident.” The word rolled off her tongue as it felt like it was supposed to, and she nodded slowly. “Yes. My chance at recognition, stripped.” She scoffed. “Never did get them to tell me they were proud.”

~*~*~*~*~

            She was here again. In this office, on this chair, the psych staring back at her.

            Win hadn’t visited.

            It had been months. Not once. He hadn’t even called.

            “Any word from your brother?”

            There was the knife wound. “If there had been a change, don’t you think I might’ve told you?” Evelyn scoffed. “No. No word.”

            “Hm.” Dr. Roshfort nodded. “Do you want him to visit? Or send word?”

            “He turned me in. He can rot, for all I care.”

            The venom lacing her voice wasn’t an act. He had betrayed her. The golden child, of course he had. He never did have the stomach for the grittier things in life. Never had the ability to lie to law enforcement.

            Evelyn… she had practice. So much practice.

            Hiding, lying, evading… her specialties.

            And inventing, of course. Not that she could invent a damn thing here. They wouldn’t let her so much as look at a TV remote, much less anything of substance.

            “He hurt you.”

            Her eyes rolled almost of their own accord. “That does happen when you betray your own family, yes.” At the look the psych leveled on her, she frowned. “What?”

            “Didn’t you, technically, betray him first?”

            “That’s different!”

            “How?”

            And for the first time, she didn’t have a snappy remark. Because she didn’t know. How _was_ it different?

~*~*~*~*~

            These days, she almost looked forward to therapy. A chance to talk to someone, anyone, for some period of time instead of staring at the cold walls around her. Real company instead of just her imagination.

            Solitary was lonely – even for Evelyn Deavor.

            “Good morning, Evelyn. Did you sleep well?”

            “If ‘like shit’ is a synonym for ‘well’, sure.”

            Dr. Roshfort chuckled. “Fair enough.” This time instead of getting right into the thick of things, he observed his charge for a long moment. It made her nervous, and she fidgeted with her fingers while she waited. “Why do you want out?”

            “I—”

            “ _Think_ about it, Evelyn.”

            She took far longer to respond, this time. When she did, it was barely a whisper. “I miss working. I’m _so_ bored. I miss watching the garden. I miss my brother. I miss being able to do… anything that isn’t staring at the fucking wall.” Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. “I miss—” but she cut herself off.

            “What?”

            “Oh no. Not for you.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes. No, with the current social climate. Her personal life was safer kept a secret. “Maybe later.”

            “Shame,” he replied, but allowed her to leave the topic alone. “Were your parents abusive, Evelyn?”

            She balked, and in a higher voice than was necessary squeaked, “No, of course not! They were…” A swallow. “They were… _good_ … parents.” But the way she gritted her teeth told him what he needed to know.

            “Evelyn. I think a large part of this erratic behavior… comes from poorly-managed PTSD.”

            Evelyn stared at him, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry, what? No. Only veterans get that. Do I look like the war type?”

            The psychiatrist stared right back. “No. PTSD comes from all sorts of things; assault, childhood trauma, abuse…” he arched a brow. “I imagine conversion therapy would do it, too.”

            Evelyn swallowed. “Bold of you to assume I’m some kind of _dyke_.” The word was poison on her tongue, and she wanted to cut it out of her own mouth for even uttering such a terrible word. But her tongue remained in her mouth, and she swallowed.

            “I don’t have to assume, I just know.” The smile he offered was gentle. “I have access to a lot of things, Evelyn.”

            “You pulled my files.”

            “Yes.”

            “From the institution.”

            “Logansville Psychiatric Care Facility, yes.”

            Evelyn’s heart dropped at the mention of the place. _Two years_ she had walked those halls daily. Two entire years of absolute fucking torture. Win loved their parents. On some level, Evelyn did, too. But they were not saints. And no matter how much they pushed, how much they tried, nobody could “fix” her.

            They gave up, eventually. Winston never knew – they told her she was at boarding school. She was worse when she returned.

            “We won’t be doing that here.”

            The monotone voice jolted her, and she stared at the man across from her, wide-eyed and truly surprised for the first time since she had begun to see him. “Excuse me?”

            “Aversion therapy. We won’t touch it.”

            “… Why?”

            Maybe he could hear the way her voice twitched upward just a little. The way she almost edged on hope. She couldn’t be sure if he was genuine or playing off her cues.

            “I’m not here to change who you are fundamentally,” he shrugged. “I’m here to guide you back to a path that you can feel confident about and healthy on.”

            Evelyn Deavor? Confident? Clearly, the dude had never met her.

            The buzzer went off and Evelyn nearly jumped out of her skin. Dr. Roshfort chuckled. “Ah, looks like we’re done today. I’ll expect to see you later this week, then?”

            Evelyn barely nodded, confused by the direction the session had gone. “Yeah. Um, sure, yeah.”

            The guards escorted her back to her room, where she finally had something to really think about. Sink her brain-teeth into. She hadn’t had anything worth thinking over in _months_.

            _A path I can feel confident and healthy on, huh?_

~*~*~*~*~

            Dr. Roshfort was treading a line, and they both knew it. He was _absolutely_ supposed to report “abnormalities” as they were called. Yet he didn’t. Or, hadn’t. Yet. Evelyn wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t, but so far he had been true to his word. No aversion therapy, no mind-fucks.

            “Ah, the woman of the hour,” he acknowledged, turning in his chair.

            She threw herself onto the armchair in mock-drama, kicking her heels up on the armrest. “All the attention to myself for a whole hour? How lucky am I,” she replied. Her voice was dry, but the barest hints of a smirk played on her lips. Regardless of what she said, she had come to enjoy these sessions.

            The man chuckled and tapped his pen on the clipboard. “So.” The way he said it made Evelyn’s eyes narrow. “Today I want to touch on something…. Different.”

            “Different _how_?” she asked suspiciously.

            “Elastigirl.”

            The jolt down her spine at the mention of the woman’s (hero) name made her grit her teeth. “What about her?”

            “Well, she was instrumental to your capture, wasn’t she?”

            The ship. The hypnosis of all the people on that boat. Win choosing _fucking Supers_ over his own sister. And Elastigirl, _Helen fucking Parr_ , having the audacity to save her sorry ass. After she threw her out of a plane, of course. Most terrifying, what, ten minutes, of Evelyn’s entire life.

            No, that was a lie. It was terrifying, but final. Part of her would’ve rather died. She recoiled from Helen’s touch up there in the sky. Couldn’t bare to be saved. The landing knocked her out cold because “Voyd” couldn’t even land them right.

            “Yes.”

            Dr. Roshfort sighed. “Alright, I know you don’t want to talk about this, but we _have_ to go over it, Evelyn.”

            “Maybe I’d rather just fucking stay here if I have to relive that nightmare.”

            He regarded her considerately and shrugged. “Well, if that’s what you want…”

            She panicked as he started to close his binder and move. “No, wait! I want out. I do. I don’t want to talk about this. There’s… a lot of conflict.” The words came out through gritted teeth, and she nearly bloodied her own cheek from biting so hard. Nervous tics returned – picking her nails, squeezing her wrist.

            She didn’t get a reply. The doctor only watched her. This was one where he couldn’t drag, coax, or cajole it out of her. He just had to wait.

            “ _Fuck,_ ” Evelyn breathed. “Are you just going to stare at me?”

            No reply. Fine, then.

            “ _Elastigirl_ is part of why I’m in this fucking mess,” she scoffed. “I picked the best Super for the job. Least casualties, highest number of lives saved. Least financial damage. Most pleasing aesthetic.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I chose her _too well_. Saw right through me. Smart, capable woman.”

            This was weaving into admiration territory and she knew it, and hated it. She had denied it while she was face-to-face with the Super, but there was _something_ there. She felt it. Maybe Helen didn’t, but she did. Core beliefs be damned.

            “I _hate_ that she saved me. I hate that she’s still that fucking compassionate that she’ll save someone who dragged her children into a murder plot. Someone who did _not_ deserve her kindness.”

            There it was. Roshfort took a note. This was the most honest she had ever been with him.

            “Does she know?”

            “Are you insane? Of course not, what good would that do?”

            He arched a brow, and she grimaced. “My release.”

~*~*~*~*~

            “Deavor, you got a visitor.”

            _Win_?

            Auburn hair… that was definitely _not_ Win.

            _Oh, fuck._

            She nearly turned and bolted.

            Yes, she had put in a request for upper management to contact the Parrs to invite Helen to the facility. Evelyn assumed it would be a dead end. What would a woman living her life like this want with a criminal, locked away in prison, who had tried to kill her whole family and make her very existence illegal?

            All the old anxiety came back. At DevTech, she was in her element. Confidence, strong. She could hide behind Win, money, and technology. Here she had none of those things. Just a tan jumpsuit and a healthy dose of terror.

            She almost bolted. It was a miracle she still stood in place. She almost turned and walked out.

            But then Helen spotted her.

            She spotted Evelyn and _smiled_.

            Just barely a quirk of the lips, but it was there, and it both intrigued and confused Evelyn. She was nothing if not curious.

            “Evelyn,” Helen acknowledged.

            She couldn’t find it in her to mirror the greeting, so she just sat down. For high-security prison, they were surprisingly lax about letting visitors mingle with inmates. “Didn’t expect to see you… ever.”

            “The facility called.”

            “I know.”

            Helen’s brows shot up. “Your request?” she asked. When Evelyn only nodded, she squinted. “… _Why_?”

            “For the amazing environment, obviously,” Evelyn scoffed. Helen glared at her, and she gulped. She was _really_ out of her element here. “I’m—I uh, it’s, it’s part of my therapy.”

            “… You’re in therapy?”

            Evelyn shrugged. “Requirement for consideration of early release.” Helen bristled. “I know, I know. But it… _has_ been kinda helpful.”

            Helen sighed, clearly exhausted, and rolled her eyes. “Alright, well… what am I here to listen to? More lies? More half-truths? More hypnosis?”

            “No, nothing. I just… I just want to talk. That’s it.” Evelyn swallowed hard, the lump of pride in her throat threatening to combust.

            Helen regarded her for a long, long moment, head tilted. Finally she leaned forward, and the smirk on her face made Evelyn feel slightly at home. “Alright, better start talking. I have to pick up the baby in an hour.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn and Helen talk, and it brings up old emotions.

            Whatever Evelyn had wanted to say seemed to die on her lips.

            “You said you wanted to talk. I’m waiting.”

            If she hadn’t known better, Helen would almost think Evelyn was… scared. _Almost_. Because that couldn’t possibly true. The woman before her had single-handedly assembled a team of Supers, manipulated Helen, and nearly succeeded in crashing a boat of the world’s most influential ambassadors into a city. She had come _frighteningly_ close to succeeding, and she had never exuded anything but confidence.

            That wasn’t entirely true. Little blips here and there – their conversation after the party, for example. The one right before Evelyn slapped the goggles on her. Even within the ice prison, Evelyn had given some insight that she wasn’t quite as emotionless as she’d like the world to believe.

            “Why are you here?”

            The question caught Helen off guard, and she realized her mind had wandered. The brunette watched her from across the table, and she noticed that Evelyn fidgeted uncertainly with her hands.

            “I thought you said _you_ wanted to talk,” Helen rebuked. She didn’t actually know why she was here. The invitation had come, and it took entirely too much effort to get through all the security protocols just to visit Evelyn. So why _was_ she here?

            Evelyn scoffed and rolled her eyes. “This _is_ talking, _Elastigirl_.”

            Her voice was just a touch too hostile, and Helen sighed, starting to get up. “I shouldn’t have bothered.”

            “No, wait!”

            Brows arched, Helen sank back into her seat, intrigued. That panicked response had her curious. Damn that curiosity. It always did get her into trouble.

            “I-I don’t actually know what I want to say,” Evelyn murmured quietly. “I… don’t really know what there is _to_ say? I mean, what do you say when you tried to uh… ban someone’s existence?” she grimaced.

            She had never seen Evelyn like this, and she was stuck somewhere between suspicion and wanting to know more.

            “I wanted to see how you were holding up.” Evelyn’s head shot up and she stared, wide-eyed, at the other woman.

            “ _Why_?”

            Helen shrugged. “Curiosity?” she offered. “Concern?”

            “Why the hell are you concerned about me?” The same tone from the icebox lecture seeped into her voice, and she smirked. “You’ve got your kids and your husband, and I assume, your vigilante-moonlighting.”

            “Actually, legal crime-fighting now, thanks to you.”

            “You’re a cop?”

            Helen laughed, genuinely _laughed_ , at the surprise coloring Evelyn’s tone. “No, no. But as laws have shifted, there is a legitimate work force registration for Supers. Fits into Government arrangement. Very high-security.”

            Evelyn groaned and rolled her eyes. “Of _course_ you’ve all been monetized,” she sighed. “Figures.”

            It felt too… _familiar._ The conversational tone was like a punch in the gut for Helen. All she could call to mind was Evelyn gesturing wildly between them. _Why would you ever count on me? We don’t know each other!_

            “Guess you got your way, sorta. We have restrictions.” Helen shrugged. “As with any weapon, right?”

            Evelyn nodded, but her heart wasn’t in it. She squinted at the Super and pursed her lips, frowning. “So now you’re stuck with the bureaucratic bullshit?”

            “Yep.”

            “Hm.”

            “How’s Winston?”

            Evelyn bristled, and Helen regretted asking immediately. “Fine, I’d guess.”

            “You’d guess?”

            Blue eyes leveled a glare at her. “I wouldn’t know. Haven’t talked to him. Haven’t seen him,” she shrugged.

            The look on Helen’s face must have betrayed her. “Evelyn—”

            “ _Don’t,_ ” she ground out through gritted teeth. “I don’t need your _pity_ , Parr.”

            Ah. There she was. That was the Evelyn that Helen remembered. Closed off and distant. The side of Evelyn she disliked greatly. “I just… he hasn’t even _called_?”

            Evelyn smirked and rolled her eyes. Family woman Helen Parr, of course she would be worried. Why hadn’t she expected that? “It’s fine. Really.”

            Maybe if she said it enough times, she’d believe it herself.

~*~*~*~*~

            “So… Elastigirl…”

            “I didn’t expect her to come.” The words were out before she could stop them. “I didn’t expect to see her. I figured she would get the message and leave me here. I really didn’t think she’d come.” She was repeating herself and she knew it, but couldn’t seem to stop repeating it. She was still suspended in a state of disbelief that the Super had _actually come._

            “No?”

            Evelyn swallowed. Maybe she had hoped, sure. She _wanted_ to see Helen again. After the excitement of free-falling out of a plane, being rescued by a heroine, and shipped off to prison died down, she found that she actually _missed_ the other woman. What the hell was she supposed to have in common with a superhero? Nothing. They had nothing. Helen was married with kids, lived a suburban life for years. Evelyn had never lived in a suburban area in her life. She was city lights, high rises and sprawling estates.

            They had _nothing_ in common.

            And yet…

            “How did it go?”

            Evelyn twitched. “She… doesn’t seem to hate me?” she offered tentatively. “Fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know people.”

            He hummed in consideration and watched her for a moment. “Do you regret what you did?”

            “Wow, we’re just diving right in, huh?”

            “Do you?”

            He wouldn’t afford her the luxury of a way out of this conversation. This one needed to happen.

            “I… I feel bad I dragged the kids into it, I guess.”

            “But do you _regret_ it?”

            “Which part?!” Evelyn finally snapped, and Roshfort had to hold back the smile. This was what he was looking for. “Which fucking part? The part where I deceived my little brother and used him to make this work? The part where I recruited a goddamn pizza kid? The part where I deceived fucking _Elastigirl_ of all people? The part where I used every single person around me, the part where I almost killed a ship-full of people? Which part am I supposed to regret?”

            Her therapist smirked this time, and when she leveled a glare at him, he grinned. “That sounds like an awful lot of emotions.”

            “I’ve had six months staring at a wall with nothing to do but think and self-reflect,” she grumbled back.

            “So… how _do_ you feel about everything?”

            Evelyn swallowed. “Typical question,” she muttered. It took her a long moment to finally find the words she was looking for. “I… I don’t think I like the person I was. Am.” She glanced up for reassurance, but didn’t find it. There was no judgment, but his job wasn’t to convince her she wasn’t terrible. “I don’t like the way I did things. I mean, it accomplished _something_ , I guess. Hel- _Elastigirl_ mentioned that Supers have… regulations.”

            “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

            It left a bad taste in her mouth. “I don’t know how I feel about government organizations controlling powerful people who could crush me.”

            He nodded, agreeing momentarily, and shrugged, unsure of what to say. He’d wait.

            Evelyn offered more soon enough. “I… kind of wish I hadn’t pulled Elastigirl into it.”

            “I do know her name.”

            “Oh.” She offered a sheepish look. “Well, I wasn’t sure.”

            “Still protecting her identity?”

            “Well,  yeah, I don’t want to endanger her or her kids…” As soon as it was out, she realized what she had said and almost seemed to chastise herself internally. “I mean, for other people’s benefit, y’know?” That didn’t make it better. That was actually worse. “Closely guarded personal secret?”

            Dr. Roshfort chuckled. “If you’re trying to convince me, it’s not working.”

            “’Course not.”

            They sat in silence for a long moment before Evelyn spoke again. “When I get out… I think… I want to do some community service.”

            If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “That’s very mature.”

            _Anything to clear this fucking conscience._

~*~*~*~*~

            Why had she gone to visit? Why had she ever accepted that offer? Why would she ever put herself, her _family_ , at risk like that?

            Helen spent the entire drive home after picking up Jack-Jack mentally kicking herself. She had just visited the criminal who tried to ban her. Who tried to _kill_ her. It took everything in her not to just scream at the top of her lungs.

            She had wanted to see how Evelyn was doing. Because for all the inventor had done to her… Helen _still_ cared. She had worried herself almost sick when Evelyn got knocked out on the ship, absolutely certain she was injured. She was fine, of course, but Helen had still panicked before Evelyn woke up and started throwing smartass remarks at her again.

            Bob had seen it.

            He had _never_ seen her so frazzled over taking out a villain.

            She had such a hard time considering Evelyn a villain. They’d had genuine moments, and she couldn’t shake the belief that those times, Evelyn wasn’t faking it. She wasn’t pretending to care. She _actually_ cared.

            She just cared about destroying Supers more, apparently.

            This was going to drive her insane if she let it. Helen let out a deep breath as she pulled into the parking space and collected herself before taking Jack-Jack inside. Bob and the kids had gathered around the table to study, and Helen smiled to herself as she moved past the kitchen to put Jack-Jack to bed. Once he crashed, she popped into the kitchen just long enough to fix something for the kids and, once that was taken care of, retire to bed.

            Tonight, she didn’t have the stamina for the kids. Bob had proven himself fully capable of taking care of things around the house, so for once, she allowed him.

            Sleep didn’t come quickly. She spent far too long staring at the ceiling, trying to work out Evelyn’s motives.

            Something had never struck her as truly _evil_ about the other woman. Misguided and corrupt, absolutely… but what rich person was’t? She had yet to meet a rich kid who wasn’t also horrifically corrupt, whether intentional or not. Evelyn didn’t have the trademarks of a truly evil person. She didn’t watch people suffer just for the sake of it. She was goal-focused, and everything she had done over the weeks of the Screenslaver debacle had led to that goal.

            She didn’t _want_ to watch others suffer. She had collateral.

            And no, she would likely never forgive Evelyn for putting her children in danger. For putting the other Supers, and a boat-full of innocent (okay, politicians weren’t all _innocent_ , but they weren’t evil) in danger.

            Something even deeper than her psychoanalysis of Evelyn’s motived reared its head and she almost groaned, in no mood to deal with this train of thought. But it lingered anyway, regardless of how much she _didn’t_ want to think about it.

            There had been a spark.

            She’d felt it the second Evelyn crashed through the door, dropping blueprints everywhere. That feeling of magnetism. Helen had denied it the entire time she was face-to-face with Evelyn, but _fuck_ , she’d had a hard time keeping that part a secret and watering it down. The night of the party, their conversation about the cynic and the believe… she had felt an unmistakable, mildly familiar feeling then.

            And if she wasn’t wrong, Evelyn felt it too.

            The social climate was _not_ good for that.

            The door creaked, and Helen realized she had been staring at the ceiling for an hour. The bed dipped on the other side, and Bob pulled the covers up, scooting closer to embrace his wife.

            “What’s on your mind, Honey? You seemed preoccupied.”

            She swallowed. “I visited Evelyn today.”

            He almost shot out of bed. “She’s out?”

            “No, I visited her in prison.” She scoffed, and couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. “The facility called on her behalf. She’s in _therapy_ , Bob. Actual, honest-to-God therapy.”         

            “Definitely needs it,” he muttered. “So….?”

            “We talked.” A small, fond smile touched her lips, and she turned to face him. “I saw the nicer side of her this time. The one I actually liked,” she laughed.

            There was a hum from beside her. “I don’t know what you saw in that woman,” he scoffed. “Are you going to visit her again?”

            Helen hesitated. “I’m… not sure. Maybe.” She patted his cheek. “If it’s going to bother you…”

            Bob grinned. “I want you to do whatever you feel comfortable with,” he replied. The edge was there in his voice, but he tried. Their communication had improved, but left a bit to be desired even now.

            She had to hand it to him, though. He took it a lot better than she expected.

            With a contented hum, Helen cuddled a bit closer and tried to put the thoughts of Evelyn out of her mind.

            For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this house we love and respect Bob Parr

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a character study and now it's gonna be a story.   
> Comments feed the writer's souuuul.


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